Lanier was stunned. He had thought security aboard the Stone—certainly around the libraries—was extremely tight. Would he be held responsible for such a hideous leak—or was the leak from another source, perhaps the President's office, or Hoffman's?

"This is a highly unusual situation," Feodorovski continued. "Frankly, my colleagues and I have a difficult time believing we are not living a fairy tale." The other three nodded, not quite in unison. "But these reports are reliable. What do you have to say about them?"

"The libraries have been approached cautiously," Hague said. "We've just begun to process the information stored there."

Feodorovski looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. "We have pledged to speak frankly with each other. My government knows such information exists in the libraries. In fact, we are certain that the accounts of this future war are already in the hands of your President."

He looked around the table. Lanier met his gaze steadily and noticed a flicker of smile on his lips. "Yes," Feodorovski said "We know, of course, that humans built the Stone, or will build it, centuries from now. We know that it will be constructed from the asteroid known as Juno. We know this because in every particular the asteroid Juno and the Stone are identical. Our spacecraft in the asteroid belt has confirmed this."

"Mr. Feodorovski, we are dealing with a very unusual problem," Hoffman said. "We are certain that the Stone does not come from our universe, but from an alternate universe. We strongly believe that the information contained in the libraries could be misinterpreted. They may not predict conditions in our world in any way. The scientific data could be useful, and we are studying that closely, but releasing information haphazardly could be disastrous."

"Nevertheless, there is such a history."

Cronberry said, "If there is, we are not privy to it."

Lanier felt his heart sink. He hated lies, even necessary lies. He hated being a party to lies. Yet he no more wanted the Russians to get the information in the libraries than Cronberry and Hague. That made him a liar.

The Russian seated closest to Feodorovski—Yuri Kerzhinsky—leaned over to whisper in his ear. Feodorovski nodded. "Mr. Lanier," he said, "do you deny the existence of this information?"

"I don't know anything about it," Lanier said smoothly.

"But you concede, do you not, that if such information exists, being aware of it, knowing certain dates, even certain hours, knowing the situations and consequences in advance would be of great strategic value, and also would put a very great strain on you individually?"

"I imagine it would," Lanier said.

Hague interrupted. "Mr. Lanier is not to be badgered—"

"Very sorry," Feodorovski said. "My apologies. But our concern is larger than individual politenesses."